


Котенок

by OhCaptainMyCaptain



Series: Stucky Porn Prompt Challenge [16]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, And Steve's Idea, BDSM, Begging, Birthday Smut, Blow Jobs, Bottom Steve Rogers, Candles, Collars, Come Swallowing, Comeplay, Crygasms, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Dom Bucky Barnes, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Established Relationship, Everything is consensual, Face Slapping, Face-Fucking, Forced Orgasm, Gun Kink, Gunplay, Hand Jobs, Ice Play, Leather, Light Bondage, M/M, Master Bucky Barnes, Master/Pet, Multiple Orgasms, Name-Calling, Pet Names, Pet Play, Pet Steve Rogers, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Established Limits, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Reference to Flogging, Reference to Knifeplay, Reference to Whipping, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safeword Use, Safewords, Shameless Smut, Smut, Smut and Feels, Steve Has Issues, Sub Steve Rogers, Temperature Play, Top Bucky Barnes, Warning: NSFW GIFS/images at the end of the story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 19:07:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2399534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhCaptainMyCaptain/pseuds/OhCaptainMyCaptain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>PROMPT: BDSM (DOM!BUCKY & SUB/PET!STEVE) + PET PLAY + TEMPERATURE PLAY + GUN PLAY + COME PLAY + PRAISE!KINK + AFTERCARE + SAFETY WORD</b>
</p><p>Fuck, Steve looks mouth-watering when he offers himself up like this... Golden hair purposely tousled, as if the man had just rolled out of bed after a night of sleeping funny... The clothing’s always different – Bucky makes sure to pick out his Stevie something real nice whenever they play... He’s had Steve dress up so many different ways, and every time, Bucky takes his first look at him and thinks, <em>This one can’t be topped.</em></p><p>It always can be though, oh yes. Taking one look at Steve in the doorway, head down with those messy golden wisps of hair sticking out all over the place, wearing nothing but a pair of skin-tight black leather pants and that beautiful black leather collar around his throat… </p><p>Bucky instantly knows this is his favorite look yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Котенок

**Author's Note:**

> Котенок - _kat-yo-nok_ \- Russian word for _Kitten_
> 
> ***Please be mindful to read all tags, as there is a LOT of heavy kinks explored in this fic and I don't want anyone to be triggered***
> 
> **NOTE: EVERYTHING THAT BUCKY DOES OR SAYS TO STEVE IN THIS STORY IS COMPLETELY CONSENSUAL. STEVE WANTS IT.**
> 
> The following kinks/things happen in this fic _because I wanted to knock several popular prompts from the list all at once_ :  
> -Comeplay  
> -Crygasms  
> -Gunplay  
> -BDSM with Dom!Bucky  
> -Pet play with Pet!Steve  
> -Temperature play (burning with candle wax and cooling with ice)  
> -Monster anal plug  
> -The use of a safety word to reiterate the trust and respect between the two of them  
> -Multiple & forced orgasms  
> -More aftercare
> 
> \---
> 
> As always, thank you to everyone who's been sending me prompts, kinks, etc. for this Stucky Porn Prompt Challenge. I've gotten some really damn good ones, so feel free to continue to send me your requests either here, or on my [Tumblr](http://ohcaptainmycaptain1918.tumblr.com/) :)
> 
> **I do not own any characters, settings, plot lines, concepts, or terminology as created, used, and owned by Marvel Entertainment, LLC ®. This is a work of fanfiction. Furthermore, I do not authorize the re-distribution of this story for the purposes of downloading, printing, or posting the story in its entirety on any other websites without first attaining my consent. Thank you.**

Bucky doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the sight of Steve, standing there in the doorway and peering up at him from under those long lashes of his. They’re even _longer_ tonight; Bucky had gone out that morning with Natasha and sought her help in picking out the perfect brand of mascara. She still shoots him that little side glance whenever they do this – which, admittedly, is only once in a while. One perfectly shaped eyebrow arches - her lips slightly pursed - and she gets that familiar glint in her eye that reminds him that, yeah, she gets it; knows what it feels like to want to indulge in those sexual things most depraved and carnal. But then again, that's hardly a surprise, because she’s always gotten Bucky. He can’t help but think she looks beautiful in their mutual understanding.

Not as beautiful as Steve, though.

Fuck, Steve looks mouth-watering when he offers himself up like this. It’s a very specific look for a very specific occasion - every year, on this same day, Bucky just wants to make it so good for him… But part of doing that involves Steve working to be good for _him_ in return. So he presents him there in the frame of the door; golden hair purposely tousled, as if the man had just rolled out of bed after a night of sleeping funny. Steve may have the body of a Greek god, but it’s that face of his – _Jesus, Mary, and Joseph_ , behind the firm jawline and his strong nasal bone, he has the most angelic, boyish features. When he’s done up like this, with his hair like _that_ , it’s impossible for Bucky not to see the boy from their youth – and maybe that shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does.

But it _does_. So _fuck_ what anyone else thinks about it. Bucky’s spent far too many years living by everyone else’s orders to let anyone dictate what he can and cannot enjoy _now._

The clothing’s always different – Bucky makes sure to pick out his Stevie something real nice whenever they play. Times are different now, which means there’s more variety; things that are more easily accessible, with money to buy them that they would’ve never had before. He’s had Steve dress up so many different ways, and every time, Bucky takes his first look at him and thinks, _This one can’t be topped._

It always can be though, oh yes. Taking one look at Steve in the doorway, head down with those messy golden wisps of hair sticking out all over the place, wearing nothing but a pair of skin-tight black leather pants and that _beautiful_ black leather collar around his throat… Bucky instantly knows this is his favourite look yet.

The collar is the singular constant. Bucky could have him in fucking lingerie (and he _has_ before – _goddamn_ , he’d looked damn near _unlawful_ in those lacy blue panties, _fucking Christ_ ), and Steve would always make sure he had that collar snugly fastened on. Bucky had gotten it for his boyfriend two years prior, and _fuck_ , it wraps around the arch of his throat so prettily. Steve bronzes with the best of them in the summers, but whenever they plan to do this, he always avoids the sun as much as he can in the weeks leading up to it so he can keep himself as pale as possible for Bucky. He knows better than anyone how hot and hard the sight of leather makes the ex-Assassin.

But pair that with the contrast the dark hues cast against the creamy expanse of alabaster flesh, and Bucky’s pupils are blown the second he lays his eyes on it.

Steve doesn’t move, doesn’t make a single motion to come closer. _Good_. He behaves so well. Bucky’s on his feet – has been since he called out and asked Steve if he was ready, and then listened to the footfalls as his lover approached their bedroom – and stares him down. Unlike Steve, Bucky is fully clothed. It’s part of their ritual.

“You look amazing,” Bucky says, unable to hide the warmth from his voice. Steve smiles to himself, baby blues still aimed at the ground. It gives Bucky butterflies – how badly Steve adores praise. Luckily, Bucky loves to give it to him just as much… Granted that he’s earned it, of course. In his mind, they haven’t technically started yet, though, so when he tells Steve that he can look at him, Steve doesn’t hesitate to bring his gaze back up and meet his own.

“You have any trouble getting into those things?” he asks with an amused smirk.

Steve makes a funny face and chuckles under his breath; hands absentmindedly pressing to the smooth material stretched tightly over his thighs and sliding them around. Bucky has no doubt Steve probably used a good five minutes of his personal prep time in the bathroom, staring into the mirror (or maybe he did it with his eyes closed; Bucky can’t decide which mental image is hotter) and memorizing the sensation of the leather beneath his fingertips. Steve’s always gotten off just as much on the outfits Bucky requests him to wear. It’s about the one time Bucky truly believes that Steve sees himself as the stunning, _sexy_ human being that Bucky’s always seen since long before the serum.

“Little bit,” Steve answers. “Wasn’t as tough as I thought it’d be, though. Is it what you were hoping for?”

The tinge of longing – that insatiable _need_ for Bucky’s approval – doesn’t go unnoticed. Bucky makes sure Steve sees the way he rakes his grey eyes up and down his fucking _perfect_  body before nodding his head with the softest of exhales. “Oh, _fuck yeah_ ,” Bucky says. “Just when I thought you couldn’t possibly be anymore goddamn _stunning_ …”

The apples of Steve’s cheeks get the cutest flush at the attention. He can play shy all he wants – though Bucky knows it’s only about _half_ for show, because Steve’s always been bashful and reluctant when it comes to seeing himself as attractive – but Bucky knows how much Steve likes this. Really, compared to the nature of some of the other things he goes crazy for, having a bit of a fetish for praise is one of Steve’s _tamer_ kinks.

Steve bites his bottom lip and roams his own eyes over Bucky’s body. Bucky knows he doesn’t look nearly as spectacular right now – or even half as suggestive. He’s wearing a pair of grey jeans, a black muscle shirt, and a hoodie. His hair, which had been pulled back into a messy ponytail that morning, has stray strands falling out of the elastic band, which have been tucked behind his ears constantly throughout the day. He _could’ve_ shaved--

_Except that Steve likes the feeling of that delicious burn between his thighs… Over his nipples… Along the curve of his neck and making his collar itch--_

So since he didn’t, he looks, admittedly, a lot sloppier than Steve at the moment. Hardly anything to lose your mind over or consider overly sexy, Bucky thinks. And yet Steve _still_ drinks him in as though he’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen. His dick, previously half-hard but well on its way to full mast from the sight of the blond alone, quickly starts to thicken up. He doesn’t give away just how much he gets off on praise, too – _no, that’s Steve’s job_ – but he’d have to be insane not to feel a little lightheaded at having Steve Rogers stare at him this way.

“Anything worth bringing up before we start?” Bucky asks, just like he always does.

Steve doesn’t even meet his eyes. He just licks his lips and shakes his head as he exhales, “No,” so quickly that Bucky almost misses it. Steve’s always been so fucking eager; Bucky can’t remember a time when it _wasn’t_ like this between them. Even back in the days when Steve’s body was considerably more fragile and Bucky always felt he needed to carefully tread that line between making him feel good and accidentally legitimately hurting him, Steve’s never wanted anything less than _everything_ Bucky could give him.

“Baby, look at me,” Bucky instructs him gently. When Steve meets his eyes, Bucky makes sure his tone is serious when he asks, “Safety word?”

“Hydra,” Steve recites back to him without missing a beat. He gives one small nod as he says it, as if to reassure the brunet: _It’s okay – I know exactly what we’re doing; I always know. You can trust me to say it, just as I trust you to stop if I do._ It’s just a thing Bucky always makes sure they cover before starting, even though nothing they’ve ever tried has ever been something that hadn’t been thoroughly discussed first. In fact, their friends would find it damn near impossible to believe that most of the shit they do is _Steve’s_ idea; Steve’s fantasies that he’s lived with for years and always wanted to try, especially once he’d become strong and durable enough to _take_ it.

Yeah, of course, Bucky’s his enabler – because he’s always just as willing to give Steve whatever the fuck that precious boy wants – but some of the most fucked up things to have gone on in the privacy of their apartment were concoctions thought up in the ‘good’ and ‘noble’ mind of America’s own wholesome Captain.

So Bucky nods. His eyes remain gentle as he says, “I love you, Steve.”

Steve swallows, his smile fading as it always does around this time – but pupils growing larger with anticipation; black swallowing up blue like a fucking eclipse. “I love you, too.”

In the blink of an eye, the warmth cools in Bucky’s gaze as his features harden and grow steely. Setting his jaw and straightening his posture so he seems to tower at his full height, he reaches up with his hands and slips the elastic from his hair. He feels it cascade around his shoulders, and Steve’s lips part as his gaze follows it. Bucky slides the elastic around his flesh wrist before burying his fingers in his hair and shaking it out a bit. Letting one arm fall back to his side, he uses the other hand to point to the ground in front of his feet.

“ _Come_ ,” he commands. His voice never sounds like his own the moment he’s using it to control Steve. It’s about twice as low and absent its usual tenderness. But this is what Steve craves – to be made to feel lesser than the only person he would never doubt sees him as nothing but his _equal._ It’s only because it’s a complete lie that Steve wants it so much and gets off on it so strongly. Even when treating Steve coldly, there’s always that underlying possessiveness that reminds Steve, _I am his, I am his and no one else’s, and Bucky will always take care of me._

Steve’s instantly so enthralled by Bucky’s dominating presence suddenly taking over every molecule in the air around them that his legs move without thought. Bucky gets a look of surprise that quickly morphs to one of indignation when Steve starts to _walk_ towards him. Usually he’s much better at remembering his place when it’s still so early on; he’s either _really_ fucking turned on or he’s _really_ looking to be hurt tonight.

“Excuse me!” Bucky barks at him. Steve freezes mid-step. It takes all of about a split second for the blond to come to terms with what he’d just done – and even _he_ looks shocked when he quickly looks down at his feet as if he just can’t fucking believe himself. It’s almost enough to make Bucky want to take pity on him. _Almost._

“Where do _pets_ belong?” he asks, glaring.

Steve continues to gape, blinking repeatedly and seemingly incapable of wrapping his head around how he could’ve possibly fucked this up so quickly. “I… Buck…”

“ _Where do pets belong!?”_ Bucky shouts.

Getting with the program, Steve drops to his knees and then places his hands on the ground. Bowing his head, he answers obediently, “The floor. Pets belong on the floor – forgive me, James.”

It’s the name – it’s one of Bucky's motherfucking weaknesses, because it’s both the one time Steve ever uses it so faithfully and the one time Bucky _wants_ Steve to call him that. Steve’s rarely ever called him by his birth name. It just feels so… _formal –_ respectful. Suiting, he supposes. They’d played around in the past with different titles for Steve to call him by, such as ‘Sir’ or ‘Master’. For whatever reason, in the end, it was only when Steve had accidentally fucked up and screamed _James_ during his climax that Bucky’s eyes had widened and he’d blown his load without _any_ warning.

Just like that, all of Bucky’s annoyance vanishes. He can never stay sore with Steve, even if it’s just a façade, when he follows orders so nicely – even if it takes him a bit longer sometimes to get with the program. The smile that turns up one corner of Bucky’s mouth is warm again, but it doesn’t heat the ice in his eyes. He nods, even though Steve can’t see it, and puts his hands on his hips.

“Good, sweetheart, that’s very good. Now come here – _crawl_ ,” Bucky specifies sternly.

Steve slowly makes his way over to him, and the way he moves makes Bucky groan. Steve knows _exactly_ how to roll his shoulders and dip his spine as he advances, so that every muscle in his back ripples and contours for Bucky’s enjoyment. When he’s halfway across the room, he tilts his chin up and stares up at Bucky with a fiery, submissive _craving_ written plain as dayall over his face – like he wants to be told he’s doing _well_ now, but he also wants Bucky to find fault in something else he’s doing just as much. _J_ _ust_ so Steve can feel the pleasure in being scolded.

Every single goddamn time Steve eyes him like that, Bucky just wants to pin him down and shove his cock into his tight little asshole until he has him _screaming_. Sometimes, it feels like it’s harderfor Bucky to play _his_ part of their little game, because he’s the one who needs to exude self-control – when the truth is, every fiber of his being might as well be howling for Steve just as needily. But he forces himself to continue to appear reticent. Steve arrives before him and then sits back on his calves and the balls of his feet; legs tucked under his body and knees facing forward. Awaiting instructions, he places his hands atop his thighs and stares up at Bucky with a patient silence.

“There’s my sweet little Kitten,” Bucky murmurs with an affectionate smile. The name instantly garners a reaction from Steve – making him whimper unexpectedly in his throat as his baby blues widen just the tiniest bit. Bucky doesn’t know _what_ it is about that nickname, but he reserves it _only_ for these special days. All he _does_ know is just how fucking powerfully Steve falls apart at the sound of it. Bucky smirks and pets his metal fingers through golden hair before cupping the side of Steve’s face and stroking his cheekbone with his thumb. Steve doesn’t look away or close his eyes, because he hasn’t been given permission to. Bucky traces the fullness of his lips, and Steve lets them tip apart. Bucky watches how the hot breath ghosting out from Steve’s mouth casts the softest trace of fog on the pad of his bionic thumb, as his own dick strains against the fly of his pants.

“Lick it, Kitten,” Bucky orders with bated breath, and Steve does; pokes the tip of his tongue out, blue eyes still boring up into grey, and rubs it against the coppery taste of metal. Bucky’s lips suddenly feel dry, so he swiftly licks them. When he releases the breath he’d been holding, he pushes it between Steve’s lips and says, “Suck.”

It’s not like Bucky can feel it – but if he’s grown to appreciate nothing else about that fucking arm over the past few years, it’s how mesmerizing it looks sliding in and out of Steve’s body; doesn’t matter _where._ And Steve… Steve just looks up at him like he wants to give Bucky the whole world on a silver platter with Bucky’s name etched into it in gold – and it’s a _thumb_ for god’s sake, and yet he’s releasing these soft little slivers of moans, as though his lips were instead stretched obscenely around the thickness of Bucky’s cock. Bucky’s mouth slackens as he watches Steve bob back and forth, from the second knuckle to the tip and back again, and back again, _and back again. God_ , Bucky could just yank his jeans down right now and hold Steve still while he fed his cock all the way into the back of his throat. Steve would take it, too; _be fucking_ glad _and_ thankful _for it._ Steve’s always so damn starved for Bucky’s ministrations – _any_ of them, _all_ of them.

“Wish that was my cock, Kitten?” Bucky asks.

Steve gives a quick and tiny nod as he exhales a low moan; pulling back only to look down at that spit-slick thumb and answer with an overeager hopefulness, “Yes, James… May I?”

Steve’s mistake is that he’s audacious enough to already be lifting his hands and making for the fly of the brunet’s pants before he’s been told he could. Before they can come into contact, Bucky shoves his thumb in Steve’s mouth at the same time that he twists his wrist and grabs underneath the blond’s chin. Digging his thumb down into Steve’s tongue, Bucky clamps his jaw in his grip and forces his lover’s face up to look at him. Steve winces but his eyes are glazing over beautifully. If Steve needed to use the safety word _now_ , it’d prove difficult with the way Bucky’s got his mouth pried open – but they have that angle covered too, just in case. If he ever needed to notify Bucky to stop in the event that he couldn’t form words, their safety _word_ turns into a safety _hum_ (the first few notes from ‘Stop, In the Name of Love’, to be specific). As it is, Steve just stares up at him, and the only sound he _does_ make is a breathy, muffled groan.

“What have I told you about touching me before I say you can?” Bucky asks warningly. He lets go of Steve’s jaw so he’s capable of answering. Steve, for all of his incredible _need_ to be dominated like this, is actually a bit of a bossy shit if Bucky doesn’t give him what he’s after _fast_ enough – so he fists his flesh hand in Steve’s hair when the blond doesn’t answer immediately and gives the side of his head a ruthless yank.

Steve’s eyes squeeze shut and his mouth falls open as he grunts loudly, the sound trailing off into a soft hiss as his brows knit together in the sweet sting. Taking a quick breath, he forces his eyes open again, and when he looks up, Bucky’s breath catches… Steve always responds so acutely to whatever Bucky unleashes on him, be it pain or pleasure. That one little tug of the hair already has Steve’s baby blues watering – _amazing_ , really, since Bucky’s seen the guy in battle before and he’s capable of taking so much worse without even flinching. Yet Bucky could do something as minute as pinching his nipples (a thing he _really_ fucking loves doing, actually) and it always leaves the corners of Steve’s eyes wet.

“M’not allowed,” Steve says, masking _most_ of his reluctance at the admission.

“Then why did you _just_ try and do it? You wanna be spanked, Kitten? You want me to turn your beautiful ass black and blue?”

Steve groans, eyes fluttering shut. He tries to cover up the small nod he gives away but then does damage control by answering, “I want whatever treatment you think I deserve.”

 _Ohh,_ fuck _yeah._

“Good Kitten, yeah,” Bucky says huskily, eyes darkening at all of the possibilities. Nothing’s off the table when it comes to Steve and Bucky knows it; fact is, they’ve experimented so much together that they’re starting to run out of new things to try. But it _also_ means that Bucky’s learned which things are his best friend’s favourites; what makes him come the hardest. Stroking the side of the blond’s face again, heat pools in his belly when Steve turns towards the touch and nuzzles into it. He’s about to open his mouth to talk again when his ears suddenly catch a soft, thrumming sound coming from his lover’s throat. _No way, is Steve--?_ Blinking, Bucky’s mouth falls open and he leans in towards him to listen more closely.

“Hold on – I – Steve… are you _purring_ right now?”

Steve opens his eyes and gives him a filthy, heated look. Locking his gaze on Bucky, he inhales through his nose and then on the exhale, replicates that low vibration in his throat. _Holy fucking shit_ , _holy fuck, Jesus Christ_ … Bucky didn’t know Steve could do that – he’s certainly never done it in the past. The sound travels straight down between Bucky’s legs and makes his cock twitch. The corner of Steve’s mouth curls upwards with a smug sense of satisfaction. He knows it’s a sort of _show_ he’s putting on for Bucky right now, so he just burrows his face back into his lover’s palm. Closing his eyes again, Steve continues to purr.

“Where did…? When the fuck did you learn how to do _that_?” Bucky asks, falling victim to the arousal flooding his veins and weakening his resolve.

“Been workin’ on it,” Steve says, smiling blissfully. “You like it?”

“ _Like_ it? Jesus H. _Christ_ , Steve, that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever fuckin’ heard. Do it louder.”

Steve snorts softly, eyes still closed, before clearing his throat and following his order. Bucky breathes out, “Fuck…” before gripping golden hair and yanking Steve’s head back with a controlled aggression as he lowers himself to his own knees so they’re face-to-face. Steve gasps, disrupting the steady rumble in his throat, and as Bucky brings his lips to Steve’s larynx, he commands, “Don’t stop. Purr for me, Kitten.”

Steve gives one short, breathless moan before inhaling deeply and doing it again. Bucky begins to play with this newfound talent. He touches his mouth to Steve’s Adam’s apple – tasting the saltiness of flesh mixed with the leather of his collar – and feels the vibrations emanating from the other side. He pulls back and touches that same spot with his fingers – sometimes applying just the tiniest bit of pressure to make Steve choke on his breath before moaning hotly and continuing. For the first time, Bucky thinks he understands why Steve gets off on being called this as much as he does, because listening to him purr is making Bucky so fucking worked up that he isn’t even sure what to do with himself.

Steve needs to be teased. Bucky has to feel like he’s dying for this as badly as he is. So he kisses all along the front of Steve’s throat before parting his lips and circling the hardness of the blond’s Adam’s apple with his tongue. The contrast between Steve’s skin and the collar makes Bucky hum nice and low. Every few seconds, he flicks the tag up so he can suck it into his mouth – licks all around the small, smooth circle and feels the engraving of the word ‘ _Kitten_ ’ beneath his top lip when he lets it fall back out.

Meanwhile, he slides his flesh hand up the smooth leather hugging Steve’s inner thigh until his hand gets reacquainted with the thick erection straining against the fabric on the other side. As he starts to knead it – squeeze it, run his thumb over the silhouette of the cockhead – and essentially give Steve a handjob from over his clothes, Steve’s purring becomes broken up and interjected with shaky, burning moans… and Bucky just keeps commanding him to keep going.

There are certain things that Steve just can’t help doing, so Bucky knows better than to admonish him for it when it happens. One of these things involves Steve getting so lost in the sensations that when he gets too close, he’ll start thrusting his hips in whichever direction the friction’s coming from without even genuinely realizing he’s doing it.

Back in the war, Bucky had seen firsthand how sex was an entirely different ballgame for Steve after he’d gotten the serum – how just the smallest caress apparently felt like an exploding firework in his new body. It’d actually been so bad that for the first little while, it took next to nothing to make Steve come (which would’ve been a bit of a problem for Bucky if not for the miracle that was also Steve’s impressive new refractory period – namely, the fact that he pretty much didn’t _have_ one). Over time, he gained control over his body enough that he could hold off for _hours_ if the opportunity was granted to him. But that never meant that each and every touch still didn’t feel just as overwhelming for him.

So when Bucky feels Steve’s hips start canting up against his hand, he knows better than to punish Steve for it – because chances are, Steve doesn’t even know it’s happening at the moment. He’s probably just fighting the battle occurring within so that he doesn’t come too soon, _especially_ without permission.

Normally, Bucky likes to make him wait until his dick’s practically purple and he’s begging loud enough for everyone in the Tower to hear. But Steve’s being so fucking good right now. Even amidst his quickening, pitchy whimpers, he’s _still_ purring as steadily as he can manage, just like Bucky told him to. The combination of the back and forth sounds – whimpering to purring to gasping to purring to _moaning_ to purring – _may_ be softening Bucky’s demeanour just a tad. But he doubts Steve would really mind. Licking up to Steve’s ear, Bucky brings his lips nice and close and whispers, “You’re so fucking hard right now – _fuck_ , you sound so sweet… Yeah, sweet like sugar, Kitten - you wanna come? You wanna fuckin’ come?”

Whining loudly, Steve squeezes his eyes shut tighter and nods feverishly. “P-Please,” he says with a rush of air, sounding so hopeful that Bucky might actually _let_ him. “ _Mm_ , please, J-James, I… _Oh…_ ”

“I didn’t say you could stop purring,” Bucky hisses, which gets him a particularly audacious thrust from Steve’s hips into his hand. He bites the blond’s earlobe, growling. “ _Bad_ Kitten… _So_ bad, and yet you’re still so fuckin’ good for me. Keep purring and I’ll let you come, but you _stop_ purring while you dirty up that pretty pair of pants of yours, and I won’t let you have my cock tonight.”

Steve’s already nodding before Bucky’s even finished speaking. He opens and closes his mouth a few times as though wanting to say something, but all he manages is to stammer over blissed-out sounds. Gritting his teeth with a stifled wheeze, he presses his knuckles against the floor to ground himself and forces himself to resume purring. Bucky rewards him by moving his hand over his erection _harder, faster_ , until the gentle thrumming sound in Steve’s throat is stuttering and shaky. Bucky can practically feel how tense his best friend’s body is; can see how he’s grinding the top of his fists into the floor so roughly that his arms are shaking.

“Come for me, baby,” Bucky starts repeating into the shell of Steve’s ear. “M’gonna make you come _over_ and _over_ tonight… _God_ , you’re not gonna be able to stand it – gonna feel so fuckin’ good, I promise. Do as I say, Kitten, _come_ for me. Do it and I’ll let you suck my cock; let you get it nice and deep in your throat ‘till you’re choking on it, I know how much you fuckin’ love that. C’mon Stevie, _baby_ , let go, _now_.”

He hears a heavy gasp next to his own ear before Steve’s dick starts pulsing spastically beneath his palm. Steve snaps his hips forward and then stills. He shudders all over as he cries out brokenly, and then forces himself to try and keep purring between the string of fucked-out sounds he can’t filter. Bucky breathes lowly, “Fuck, yeah baby, just like that,” and then helps Steve work through the intense commotion of sensations stirring in the super soldier’s body by planting a gentle line of kisses up and down the curve of his neck. His right hand eases up on the pressure against Steve’s dick but continues to stroke along it, as if to help milk every last drop out of him in order to make room for round two.

When Bucky feels Steve’s finished, he pulls away and rises back to his feet, releasing the grip his metal hand still has on Steve’s hair. Steve’s face is still pinched up – eyes closed but mouth hung open – as he fights to control his breathing and even it out again. Bucky gives him all of about a second before bringing that edgier tone back to his voice as he says, “Kitten. Look at me.” Bucky knows Steve can hear him, so at first he doesn’t understand why Steve doesn’t listen. Then he realizes that as much as Steve enjoyed Bucky’s leniency just now, it’s _not_ the usual rough way the blond likes to be handled. He’s purposely defying Bucky to _remind_ Bucky of why Steve wants this in the first place.

So he slaps Steve, hard. The loud _crack_ that echoes around them when flesh meets flesh almost drowns out the gasp is earns from Steve as his face snaps to the side – but it _doesn’t_ mask the vehement moan that pushes past Steve’s lips as he breathes roughly through his nose. There’s always a small part of Bucky that hates himself when he hits Steve, even though that’s one of those stranger kinks that gets Steve off more than most others. It’s one of those things between them that had to first be compromised _because_ Steve wanted to try it so badly, and Bucky’s only real roadblock was that he didn’t want to risk _actually_ hurting him.

So they had agreed on a middle ground: Bucky will hit Steve, but only _once_ per play time, and only if he feels Steve wants it that badly. Any more times than that and Bucky feels it’s just unnecessary abuse, despite how much Steve may want it again. And it’s _never_ done with the metal arm – it can only ever be the right one; strictly with the palm and never the back of his hand.

Steve’s cheek is a bright pink from the blow, but Bucky knows that’ll fade within the minute. It’s almost unfortunate; just because there’s that small tinge of guilt when he practically paints Steve’s cheek with a five-fingered imprint doesn’t mean there isn’t _also_ the part of him that likes it, too – otherwise he wouldn’t have agreed to do it at all. Steve _does_ look so pretty when his face is flushed like that.

Steve smiles – face still pointed to the side – and breathes out, “Thank you, James.” Bucky can’t help it; he reaches out with that same hand and turns Steve’s face back towards him to gingerly stroke his thumb over the stinging flesh. It’s his way for _Bucky_ to apologize without _James_ having to. All the same, all it gets him is that flash of annoyance in Steve’s eyes as the blond breaks character long enough to say, “If you’re always goin’ to do this, I don’t know why you don’t just make it a hard limit.”

“I’m just making sure you’re okay!” Bucky snaps, momentarily dropping the act long enough to roll his eyes.

Steve presses his lips into a firm line and huffs. “I’d rather you just _not_ do somethin’ that makes you uncomfortable altogether, than _doing_ it and then makin’ me feel like I’m the only one here who’s enjoying it.”

“I do enjoy it, Stevie,” Bucky says, his tone softening. He strokes the blond’s skin with his thumb, and just as he expected, the angry red blush is already halfway gone. The stubborn frustration on Steve’s face – completely opposing the submissive daze that’d been etched across his features only moments ago – makes one side of Bucky’s mouth turn up into a tiny smile.

“Then stop treatin’ me like m’ _not_ the one who asked you to do it, jerk,” Steve says, as if explaining the obvious. “How many times do I hafta tell you that I _want_ you to hurt me?”

Bucky’s smile fades as he bites his lip in thought. Keeping his eyes on Steve’s face, he pauses and then says quietly, “Then tell me again.”

Now Steve rolls his eyes with exasperation, not having picked up on the shift of the air between them. “I _want_ you to hurt me, Buck.”

Bucky just keeps staring down at him patiently; face unreadable. Voice low, he repeats, “Tell me again.”

Steve blinks, slowly looking back up at him as understanding sinks in. Tentatively, he repeats his answer: “I want you to hurt me…”

Bucky starts to drag the tips of his fingers past Steve’s temple, above his ear, and into his hair. As he slowly closes his fist into it, he says, “Again…”

The blond swallows; pupils slowly dilating again from when they’d briefly retracted just now. “I want you to hurt me… _James_ ,” Steve whispers.

Bucky tightens his grip abruptly on the strands of hair and yanks Steve’s head to the side. Baby blues squeeze shut and Steve cries out. He’s already fully hard in his pants again. Bucky’s nostrils flare as he slips back into character, accepting the arousal spooling up his spine and making him want Steve to touch him anywhere, _everywhere_ , fucking all at once. “Like _this_ , Kitten?” he jeers under his breath. “ _Beg_ me for it.”

“ _Oh_ , fuck, _please_ ,” Steve’s already chanting, “put your hands on me, _hurt_ me; I wanna feel you for _days_ – _fuck_ , please, please…”

Bucky exhales loudly before tugging again on his hair. “On your feet,” he orders. “Undress me.”

Steve moves fast. Rising up, they stare at each other hungrily while the blond unzips Bucky’s hoodie and pulls it off his arms. A second later and Bucky’s lifting them above his head so Steve can peel his shirt off next. When his hands are fumbling to undo Bucky’s pants, Steve looks like he’s fighting every impulse he has to lean in and steal a kiss. Bucky knows he won’t go for it – Steve’s never allowed to _kiss_ , only to kiss _back_ , and Bucky likes to make him work for it.

He drops back to his knees when he begins tugging the jeans down Bucky’s legs, shedding his boxers down with them. He removes his hands long enough for the brunet to finish kicking them off, before grabbing Bucky’s hips and diving in, drawing Bucky’s cock into his mouth and bobbing his head as he sucks on it, _back and forth_. He really shouldn’t have done that before Bucky said he could, but the pleasure – the instant relief on his aching hard-on – is instantaneous and so good that Bucky can’t even _begin_ to think of making him stop.

His head falls back as he groans. Steve starts walking forward on his knees, forcing Bucky to back up so he doesn’t trip to the floor. He only stops when his back meets the dresser, causing it to knock against the wall. Bucky rests his elbows on it as he breathes out a curse, grey eyes rolling up into his head. Steve’s so good, he’s so fucking good – he’s got lips made for sucking dick and he knows it. Bucky rambles under his breath; encourages his Kitten and tells him how amazing he is and bosses him around – _fuck, yeah, just like that… Just the tip, suck it – oh fuck, baby!... Steve… Steve, oh… Lick it, I wanna feel your tongue, yeah… Use your teeth, just below the… the, ah, shit! Yes, Jesus Christ, right there…_

When Steve starts purring in his throat again, Bucky loses it, keeping Steve’s head still so he can thrust his hips and fuck his mouth as deep and as quickly as he wants. He only makes Steve stop when he feels like he’s getting too close, and then catches his breath and reels himself back in. Steve, following Bucky’s command, passes a few minutes doing nothing but kissing around his thighs and lower belly.

“James?” Steve breathes against his skin before giving it another noisy kiss. His voice is scratchy and guttural. Bucky want to fuck his face ruthlessly again so he can see how absolutely _wrecked_ he can _really_ make it.

“Mm?”

“Can we…?”

Bucky opens his eyes and peers down at him. Steve’s already staring up with his brows slightly raised, and Bucky knows exactly what he’s referring to. Groaning, he replies, “Fuck yes,” before spreading his legs wider as Steve repositions himself. They’ve only ever tried this one other time, but it was so hot that Bucky had almost blown his top less than ten seconds in.

Steve shuffles around so he’s comfortably sitting his weight on his knees again, with his back to Bucky; enough distance between them that when Steve leans back and tilts his chin up, brushing his lips against the tip of Bucky’s cock, his head will fit just right between Bucky’s thighs. He _needs_ to anchor his hands on Bucky’s hips for this, so he does so without requiring permission. Bucky watches with a slack jaw and half-hooded lids as Steve opens his mouth and proceeds to draw Bucky straight in and _right_ down his throat.

It feels so different this way. If Steve wasn’t able to hold his breath for an inhuman amount of time, Bucky doesn’t think they’d ever be able to get away with it, because his cock is completely obstructing his airway. Sure enough, he hears Steve stop inhaling as he draws Bucky in so deeply that he bottom lip is pressed into the short, wiry curls at the hilt; the top one, snug between Bucky’s cock and his sac.

Steve tightens his grip on Bucky’s hips as he nuzzles his face _even closer_ , causing his nose to press up against Bucky’s perineum, making the brunet exclaim, “ _Fuck!_ ” as his vision goes starry. A third of his dick is pressing against Steve’s tongue while the rest is wedged all the way into his throat. Steve’s head is tipped back so much that Bucky can’t even see it when he looks down – only the arch of his neck and the veins pushing against the skin. Bucky feels the walls of Steve throat constrict around him as the blond swallows experimentally; flexing the muscles just because he _can_ and he _knows_ how that must feel for Bucky right now. It must be an even tighter squeeze around Steve’s neck because he has that collar pressing against his Adam’s apple. Bucky bites his lip so hard to keep from moving that it’s a wonder it hasn’t started bleeding yet. He knows he needs to be patient; this is about the one time where it’s _Steve_ who has to give him permission, since this position is so intrusive.

Panting curses with every exhale, Bucky runs the fingertips of his right hand along the collar. When his ring finger catches on the tag, making a soft sound, he feels Steve give two tight squeezes on his hips – his way of giving Bucky the green light to go ahead. In this position, Bucky can’t move his hips and fuck Steve’s mouth; the movements would be too difficult. Instead, he does what he did last time and covers Steve’s throat with his hand. Applying just the smallest bit of pressure, he slides it up and down, stimulating the tiniest amount of friction for his cock on the other side and essentially working Steve’s throat _for_ him.

It’s not much, really, and yet it feels like everything. Steve’s body twitches beneath him and Bucky knows he’d moan if he had the capability of doing so. For _him_ , it’s not even so much about the actual _sucking_ involved, but the _sight_ this brings him. Steve looks like a goddamn whore leaning back and taking Bucky like this – dick as hard as a rock in the crotch of his leather pants and abs on a glorious display. Steve _knows…_ He knows _exactly_ how he looks like this and _loves_ it. His favourite part of when they play is getting to loosen up and get lost in the role of being Bucky’s little slut.

Bucky’s too busy grunting and on his way to chewing his goddamn bottom lip off to form words. He continues stroking over Steve’s throat, and _it feels too good, it looks too fucking hot, he wishes he could give Steve what he wants and last longer,_ but then his fingers keep catching on the tag – and the jostling little sounds it keeps making get to Bucky’s head, and the _moment_ his eye catches that word in cursive, ‘ _Kitten_ ’, Bucky can’t keep this up.

“Fuck, _fuck_ ,” he whispers quickly, patting the front of Steve’s throat gently - albeit _hectically_ \- to signal for him to back off.

Obediently, Steve slackens his jaw and shifts one hand on the floor behind him and then the other. Bending his elbows, he drops his weight onto his hands and lowers his mouth away in order to let Bucky’s cock pull out from between his lips. It’s practically dripping with saliva, as Bucky wraps his hand around it and starts stroking it roughly. Steve just keeps his head tipped back like that and opens his mouth, sticking his tongue out – _and call Bucky a sonofabitch if_ that _isn’t the sweetest offering that could ever be made._

“Steve… _Steve_ , fuck… God, _god_ , m’gonna come,” Bucky whispers, as quickly and quietly as the air that rushes out of his lungs. He can hear Steve moaning beneath him – how he’s back to breathing through his nose – but all Bucky can see is that opened mouth desperately hungry for his release and the way Steve’s shallowly rolling his hips into the air again, like he could somehow get some personal friction that way.

Bucky comes with a shout, angling his erection so that the thick spurts can shoot right down into Steve’s mouth (with only a _little_ accidentally splattering onto his chin). Steve’s sigh is nothing short of _wanton_ as he swallows it all down – like Bucky’s been denying him this for _months_ and the taste of his climax is literally the _only_ thing Steve’s body has been craving. Bucky’s the luckiest bastard in the world. He knows it, and not a day goes by that he doesn’t count his lucky stars for having Steve all to himself like this.

The waves of his orgasm finally subside and, panting, Bucky tells Steve he’s allowed on the bed now. For a guy with two left feet when it comes to dancing, Steve knows how to _move_ like a dancer when it matters. He twists himself around so he’s upright again and takes a deep breath as he wipes his chin with the back of his hand. Looking up at Bucky for permission, Bucky regards him with a thousand-yard stare and nods sluggishly. Steve licks the residual come from his hand, staring up at Bucky the whole time. He really _does_ remind Bucky of a kitten when he does that.

He groans, shaking his head with a small smile. “You look so perfect on your knees like that, Stevie,” Bucky says. “Right where you belong, too… You like it down there – _god_ , how could I have known you for so long growing up and not realize you were such a goddamn little slut?”

Steve bites his bottom lip and, _the fucking tease,_ answers only by purring softly again. He rises to his feet and approaches him. His stare is that perfect combination of ravenous and worshipping. Bucky holds out his hand and nods, letting Steve know it’s okay to get in close. Gripping onto the back of his neck, Bucky pulls him in so he can slot his thigh between Steve’s legs as he brushes their lips together.

“You like that, yeah?” he murmurs. He can taste Steve’s breath in his mouth as the blond exhales – slightly minty from brushing his teeth beforehand, with just the hint of Bucky's come. Steve’s eyes have fluttered shut. Bucky gets a slight, open-mouthed smirk. “You like when I call you my little slut, Kitten?”

It doesn’t matter _how_ many times Bucky asks him that, Steve always melts beneath his touch as though it was his first time hearing it. He whimpers, so Bucky runs his tongue along Steve’s bottom lip. “If only the world knew you the way I know you,” he continues tauntingly, yet he's also completely proud beneath the surface. Steve knows without doubt how happy it makes Bucky that only he’s aware of this side of Captain America. “Bet you’d bend over and pull down those pretty spandex tights of yours right out there in public if I ordered you to, wouldn’t ya?”

“Yes,” Steve moans – and Bucky wonders just how much of that is a lie spoken for the sake of their game.

Bucky pushes his thigh against Steve’s dick, hard enough to make the blond gasp. “Yes _what_?”

“Yes _J_ … _James_ ,” Steve says.

“Good Kitten.” Bucky crushes their lips together in a harsh kiss that has Steve whining, desperate for more. But Bucky doesn’t even let it get as far as Steve having the chance to part his lips. He pulls away and chuckles when Steve practically _growls_ at him. Honestly, the nerve of this guy sometimes; thinking he can _growl_ at Bucky right now. Evening out his features so Steve knows Bucky isn’t fucking around anymore, he nods to the bed and orders, “Get.”

Steve’s eyes say, _Fuck you, asshole_ (making it really hard for Bucky not to bust out into a grin), but the rest of his body language says, _Fuck_ me _, please._ Nevertheless, he turns and crawls onto the bed, immediately sprawling onto his back and letting his legs tip out to the sides lewdly. Bucky heads over to the closet and begins glancing over his potential items of choice for the night. He considers tying Steve’s limbs to the four corners of the bed, but as his fingers brush over their roll of bondage tape, he gets a better idea.

“Hands behind your back, Kitten,” he instructs, heading over to the bed. Steve sits up and crosses his wrists at the small of his back, where Bucky promptly tapes them together. A regular person would be unable to break free, but he knows that such a feat would only be too easy for someone like Steve. It’s never a concern, though - Steve only _pretends_ to struggle; the sentiment is more than enough for him. Bucky praises him for listening and then kisses his nape. Steve moans softly.

Standing back up, Bucky tells him to lie down on his belly. Catching himself, he quickly pulls away the pillows before Steve can rest his head on them. “Pets don’t need these,” he chides, tossing them to the floor. Steve just replies back obediently, “Yes, James,” and then gets the side of his cheek comfortable against the mattress.

Bucky stands in the closet, mulling over all of their toys and trying to decide which ones he should use tonight. The last time they did this, he’d used the whip and lashed up the blond’s back pretty good. They’d also utilized the flogger. (Bucky doesn’t like to repeat himself too soon; things are always more exciting when he keeps Steve’s body guessing.) Grey orbs fall onto the cinnamon-scented candle wax that he’s been saving. He hasn't burned Steve in a while, so he categorizes that one as a _M_ _aybe_. He supposes he could cut Steve - his Kitten always seems to go crazy for that. But he dismisses that idea as quick as it comes when he realizes that they’ve done that more than most other things lately. It wouldn’t have the same affect.

He takes his time sifting through the different styles and sizes of vibrators and plugs that they own, before settling on his favourite _glass_ plug. Bucky hasn’t used it on Steve before. But his own ass has taken it, and there’s something about this one that always has Bucky practically chewing holes into the sheets. Maybe it’s because of the smoothness of the glass, or perhaps the way it’s thickly ribbed. It sort of remind him of a rook piece – you know, if rooks were nine inches long and gradually worked its way up until the girth rivaled the thickness of Bucky’s wrist. Holding it up and admiring the way the light sparkles off of it, he grabs the bottle of lube with his other hand and then goes over to place them down by Steve’s feet. Petting the blond’s clothed calf, he murmurs, “How do you feel about playing with temperatures tonight, Stevie?” He turns and heads back into the closet - having decided that _yes_ , the candle will be a thing - before Steve can even answer.

But he hears it: that languid, perked-up groan, and he imagines Steve’s nodding feverishly against the mattress when he replies, “Yes please, James.”

Smiling to himself, Bucky grabs the biggest one there – just in case – as well as the spare lighter. Dumping them with the other things, he bends down to lick a single stripe over the leather covering Steve’s ass before biting down. Steve jerks with a small yelp, and Bucky chuckles as he soothes the little indentations in the fabric with two chaste kisses.

“I’ll be right back, Kitten. Stay patient for me; I’ll give you exactly what your body needs.” As he strides towards the door, he stops in the frame and then adds over his shoulder, “When I come back, I wanna see you humping that mattress like the greedy little whore you are. Give that pretty cock of yours some relief but do _not_ make yourself come. You won’t like me very much if you do, understand?”

The way Steve stares after him - only half of his face visible - as though Bucky leaving for even a second pains him greater than any punishment play ever could, makes Bucky want to gather his face in his hands and kiss his best friend until Steve was falling into fits of laughter. It’s so palpably heartbroken that it’s almost ridiculous. Bucky has to swallow that urge down so he doesn’t break character; instead, just points at him and barks sternly, “ _Answer_ me!”

Steve’s hips start grinding against the bed at the same time that he squeezes his eyes shut and breathes out, “Yes, s-sorry James… I understand…” And his cock really _must_ be straining again, because it’s not even a split second later that he’s turning his face all the way into the sheets and pressing his forehead down; gritting his teeth and moaning uncontrollably under his breath as he undulates his pelvis on and off the mattress.

Steve is no longer looking, so he can’t see the adoration that pools in Bucky’s eyes for just a fraction of a moment. Then the brunet gives one decisive nod and leaves the room. He moves quickly; grabs a bowl and then the tray of ice cubes from the freezer, before dumping a handful into the dish. On his way back, he makes a detour in the bathroom to retrieve their bottle of aloe vera, as well as a towel to wipe his hands on afterwards. Steve’s desperate, strained moans find his ears and only grow louder the closer he gets back to their room. It pleases Bucky when he returns to see the blond frantically trying to roll his hips faster... but panting and _stopping_ himself every couple seconds when he seems to get too close.

Placing the items on the small table next to the bed, he takes a knee and starts petting Steve’s hair off his face. Steve’s eyes are so fucking wet and half-focused when he opens them, and he purrs loudly at the small sign of affection. The vibrations in his throat are not nearly as steady as they’d been before – not with Steve still humping against the bed like that. He can only manage it for a few seconds at a time before he starts whimpering and humming noisily; scrunching his nose up and his brows creasing tightly.

“Such a good pet,” Bucky says. He kisses Steve’s sweaty temple and then feels along the curve of his back. When his fingers trail over one of Steve’s hands, the blond opens his fist, so Bucky lets their fingers thread together long enough for him to give Steve a reassuring squeeze. “Let’s get these things off of you, baby,” Bucky then says, referring to the leather pants. He helps Steve flip over and then does the work of unzipping them and stripping them off of the blond’s long, toned legs. Now Steve’s _only_ wearing the collar, and with his eyes already leaking like this, it’s starting to smudge the black mascara on his lashes, and _fuck,_ Steve is incredible. Heavenly. Magnificent. He is everything that captivates and all there is to love in this world – describable with every last endearing word, and yet _none_ of them truly worthy of touching Steve Rogers's name.

This always tends to happen when Bucky gets Steve naked for the first time all night. Feeling his chest tighten with emotion, he can’t stop himself from dipping down and wrapping his lips around Steve’s now-freed cock so he can pay it some much-needed attention. Steve’s back arches and he’s already squirming; gasping and moaning out a cacophony of nonsensical words – including a back and forth between _James_ and _Buck_ , which Bucky will let slide for the time being.  

He knows Steve’s about to come again, and that’s the point. He’ll draw Steve all the way in, croon so the reverberations can be sent straight to the erection making him choke, and then hollow out his cheeks so he can bob his mouth along Steve quickly. Within twenty seconds (and that’s being generous), Steve throws his head back and cries out shakily as he unravels between Bucky’s lips. Bucky moans at the taste – staring up at Steve’s face with dark, heated eyes as he makes sure to watch every second of his pretty Kitten’s orgasm – and then runs his metal hand up Steve’s chest. He rolls Steve’s nipple between his bionic digits while he swallows and continues to suck him through it; moving to the other one only after the first is bright red and swollen.

Pulling off with a heavy breath, Bucky holds himself up by his palms and kisses his way up Steve’s abdomen, his long hair curtaining his face and tickling the blond’s oversensitive skin. He captures Steve’s mouth and licks into it so Steve can taste himself, and then slows it down a bit so Bucky can makes sure Steve fully understands just how much Bucky fucking _loves_ him. Steve keeps sighing softly into his mouth. Whenever Bucky squints his eyes open, his heart feels constricted with affection at just how _peaceful_ his best guy looks, just from the feel of Bucky’s lips against his. So he figures they can waste a few more minutes doing nothing but this… Feeling their bodies pressed together, and the hardening of Steve’s sex _yet again_ against his thigh, and whispering _I love you, Kitten_ , whenever Bucky tilts his face to the opposite side and leans back in.

Eventually, he bumps their foreheads together and breathes, “Tell me what you want.”

Steve doesn’t answer right away. No, he takes his time to slowly open his eyes and bask in having Bucky so close. But then his lips part and he says, “I wanna keep playing…”

“Okay, Kitten, okay,” Bucky says with a small smile. He gives him one last kiss before sitting back on his haunches and commanding Steve onto his belly again. He admires the glorious sight of Steve’s bare ass once it’s on display; runs his hands up the back of the blond’s thighs before getting nice, big handfuls and clutching tightly. “Goddamn dream come true you are,” Bucky says, more to himself than anything. Steve still hears it. He smiles proudly with his eyes closed, sighing happily.

“We’re gonna start by getting your asshole nice and stretched for me,” Bucky explains as he begins to lube up the plug, as well as the fingers of his metal hand. “Gonna use the glass one – remember that one?”

If Steve had forgotten about it before, it’s certainly sparked the memory in him now from all the times he’s used it on the brunet when their roles were reversed. He releases a genuinely surprised, elated moan, which is good enough for Bucky. He manoeuvres the toy in his grip so he can use his flesh hand to spread Steve open and reveal his tiny little hole. Licking his lips, Bucky brings his mouth to it and gives the rim a small flick with his tongue, making Steve whine.

“Taste so fucking good, Kitten,” Bucky groans. He’s already pushing the tip of his middle finger against the ring and coaxing it to relax enough to accept it inside. “Gotta get you warmed up like this before you take this monster. Gonna have you practically _strainin’_ with it – _Christ_ , you’re gonna look so pretty with this thing crammed up inside you.”

Steve lets out a high moan when Bucky starts twisting his wrist to slide more and more of his finger into his body. Steve’s body has always been perfect at properly adjusting, so it’s only minutes later that Bucky’s swirling his tongue around _four_ of his fingers, fucking deeply into his lover’s ass and assaulting Steve’s prostate in the most exquisite, unforgiving way. The only time Bucky backs off is so he can watch Steve’s cock when it eventually goes off for the _third_ time. From the sounds Steve makes for this one, it’s a little more over-stimulating than the last two – after all, he _had_ already climaxed less than five or so minutes beforehand. But Steve likes it when it starts to hurt, and his body hadn’t really been given much of a choice in the matter anyways – like a silent command that he had to follow… Because Bucky had his fingers so deep and switched to doing nothing but curling them over and over until Steve _had_ to come. Bucky fucking milks his prostate through the _entire_ thing.

There’s a generous layer of sweat making the blond’s skin glisten, and by the time Bucky finally decides it’s time for the plug, he’s made Steve come two more times. Five is nowhere near their record, but it’s usually around the point where Steve starts to make whiny, little _hurt_ sounds and finds his voice enough to start begging Bucky to stop. Something about Steve doing that always makes Bucky so fucking hard - he sounds so helpless and he's completely at Bucky’s mercy, and Bucky never wants to _stop_ if it means he’ll keep pleading with him like this.

Of course, Steve only _does_ it because strangely, in coming across so dependent and pitiful, he knows he’s got the strongest grip on Bucky’s balls, so to say. Like this, Steve could make Bucky do whatever he wanted – so long as he approached it calculatedly and played his cards right. He purposely isn’t making a lick of sense when he feels Bucky start positioning his legs – spreading them as far as they can go and then bending the knees – but he goes just as malleably.

Bucky makes sure to be careful as he slowly eases the plug into Steve’s ass. At first, Steve thinks it isn’t so bad. But by the time it’s halfway inside, he isn’t sure how he’s supposed to fit any _more_ in there – but _God, oh God, oh God, he wants to find out._ He keeps throwing his head back and arching everywhere; shaking his head from side to side and babbling incoherently for Bucky to _stop, please, James, p-please… s-stop… I… I can’t, I… Auuhhh…_ He’s getting sweat in his eyes, and every time he licks his lips he can taste salt on his tongue. Bucky can feel the heat radiating off of his skin, but still he keeps pushing; keeps murmuring encouragement and telling his Kitten that he can do this.

Sure enough, he can and he _does_. The relieved wail that rips from his chest when he feels Bucky’s fingers touching his skin and knows it’s over makes the brunet’s head spin.

Bucky’s long since reacquainted with his body well enough to know that he has at least a half dozen orgasms left in him tonight. So he can’t help it – the sight of Steve’s hole fucking _gaping_ around the base of this plug, mixed with how fucking _deteriorated_ and beautifully _violated_ his lover looks right now as the blond writhes and whines and mewls and _still_ begs (only now, for _more_ \- the insatiable little tramp)… Bucky fists his cock and pumps it hysterically. Only a few ragged breaths later and he aims his spurting slit at the target, coating the inside of Steve’s ass with his ejaculation until it’s dripping off the base of the plug… Down the backs of his thighs...

“You… are a goddamn work of art, Stevie,” Bucky says, heaving loudly. He swipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his wrist as he assesses his job well done. After wiping his hands clean on the cloth, he gently massages Steve’s flexed calves. “How you holding up, Kitten? Green, yellow, or red?”

If he could see the look on Steve’s face right now, he might have an easier time judging his current physical state on his own. But the blond is still having a hard time catching his breath. It reminds Bucky of the asthma attacks that used to leave his tiny body doubled over and clutching to the front of his shirt as though that would somehow stable him. Call it instinct, but the sight of Steve like this always puts Bucky on edge – makes him think he took things too far – so he frowns and brings one hand up to start pulling the plug back _out_ of Steve.

“Just breathe, baby,” he whispers soothingly. “I’m sorry; you didn’t use the word. Just gimme a few seconds and I’ll get this thing out of--”

Steve can’t just snap out his hand to grab his wrist – what with them bound together – but his body jars as quickly as he forces his face to the side so he can wheeze out, “ _No!_ It’s… It’s fine… _Good_ -fine, m’just… M’trying not to come again, jerk… _Puh_ … _Please_ … Green, the colour’s green. Don’t stop.”

“You sure?”

Steve nods; blinks hard a few times to try and clear the fog making his eyes cloudy and then replies, “Yes… please… M’fine.”

“Okay, Kitten. You’re so fuckin’ good for me, you know that? Look at you,” Bucky murmurs. He kisses along Steve’s tailbone, licking up the perspiration in the hopes that his touch will help relax the tautness in his best friend’s body, if even just a bit. At this, Steve whines quietly before making himself purr again. Bucky chuckles; scrapes his top teeth gently down the slippery skin. “Can’t ever get enough, can ya? Bet you’d take my whole left arm right to the elbow and _still_ keen for more.”

“C-Can we…?”

Bucky laughs loudly. Only Steve would hear that and take it as an _actual_ suggestion - a challenge to accept and conquer. “Not tonight,” he answers. He looks up and then rolls his eyes when he sees the pout stamped across Steve’s features. “I thought you wanted to get a little burned tonight,” he says with mock exasperation. Plucking up the big red candle, he holds it out for Steve to see in his peripherals. “No, not anymore? My ideas ain’t good enough for you now, is that it?”

Steve chuffs and stares at the candle, the baby blue of his eyes almost entirely swallowed up by black. “I’m sorry, James, you’re right,” he concedes effortlessly. Playing dirty, he swivels his backside in a small circle, making him hiss and gripe loudly when it forces the plug to rub around inside of him. Instantly, Bucky’s eyes are on his ass and he’s forgotten everything he’d just been thinking.

“I want the candle, James, _please_ ,” Steve says breathlessly – indeed playing his cards _exactly_ right, now. “I want whatever you think I deserve. Please... Burn me, cut me, hit me, fuck me, _don’t_ fuck me – I’ll beg you for whatever you wanna give me.”

“But _you_ want…?” Bucky starts to ask. His gaze is hypnotically watching the tiny movements Steve keeps making with his hips.

“The candle, yes.”

“Okay. Yeah… Yeah, I can do that.”

Snapping out of it, Bucky suggests they carefully reposition Steve’s legs so they’re straighter again, as opposed to splayed out on either side and bent at the knees. Every little thing gets Steve whining again, but he goes yieldingly all the same. He’s still so tense – his muscles are rigid and straining and Bucky’s worried he’s going to hyper-extend something or fuck, even _tear_ something – so when Steve’s the way he wants him, he takes a few minutes to massage him some more, this time all over.

When the blond’s body feels a little more lax beneath his fingers, Bucky gathers the bowl of ice, the aloe vera, the candle, and the lighter. He straddles Steve so he’s hovering above his ass, while he lights up the wick and then gives the wax a couple minutes to pool in the small hollow curve of the candle. He _almost_ asks Steve if he’s ready, but forces himself not to. Steve prefers this sort of pain when it’s spontaneous and he can’t see it coming. Holding the candle out, he slowly tips it to the side and watches the hot liquid pour out and land between the blond’s shoulder blades.

Steve spasms at the contact; his body going into fight or flight mode as his back arches and he struggles beneath Bucky. It simmers down into one constant wriggle as he buries his face into the mattress, making a broken, pained sound before groaning breathlessly. Bucky holds the candle steady in his metal hand while he watches the wax cool and thicken up against that easel of pale, unblemished skin. The moment it hardens, he scratches it away and then picks up an ice cube with his flesh hand. He knows that the worst thing you can do for a burn is apply cold to it; it’s supposed to be room temperature. It’s why Steve likes it this way – it stings so much fucking more.

Sure enough, the blond gasps and releases another distressed groan when Bucky presses the ice cube to the red, raw-looking flesh and glides it around. His skin is so hot from the wax that Bucky can hear the ice cube crackling in his fingers. Steve looks beautiful like this. Bucky’s never been nearly as good at art as his best friend... But when they do this, he feels like _he’s_ the one with all the talent and Steve is a living, breathing watercolour painting that Bucky’s creating. He goes back and forth between too hot and too cold; drizzling waxy lines around Steve’s back and arms, only to scrape away the residue and amplify the pain by tracing every single line with the melting ice cubes.

By the time Bucky’s shuffling down so he can pour wax over Steve’s buttocks and thighs, he has to constantly keep checking in to see whether or not Steve’s fallen into subspace. Somewhere around the halfway mark with his back, the pained noises had subsided into low, soft moans - mixed with the gentle rumble of purring. It’s only because of this purring that Bucky knows Steve’s still with him, although it wouldn’t be the first time that something he did elevated his Kitten into subspace. Truth be told, Bucky _loves_ seeing Steve that lost in ecstasy. But it’s also a very serious matter; one he absolutely _needs_ to be aware of if it happens in order for them to continue.

He burns those gorgeous, wobbly lines all along Steve’s legs, from behind the knees to the bottom of his ass cheeks. He drizzles some wax right at the top of his intergluteal cleft - though Bucky’s mindful to keep his metal finger in the way, essentially blocking it from being able to drip down onto the glass plug. Steve finds his voice again and whimpers loudly at that one; his hands flexing uncontrollably while Bucky suspects the blond is debating whether he _should_ actually break out of the bondage tape or not. In the end, he doesn’t; just chooses to moan out the name _James_ with every breath. Bucky could make out that telltale hitch in his tone anywhere.

“You need to come again, Kitten?” Bucky asks. He’s almost done picking away the wax, dumping it into the bowl with the lone remaining, melting ice cube. Steve just mewls high in his throat. That means that _yes_ he needs to but _no_ , he doesn’t _want_ to. So of course, this is only reason for Bucky to spur him on. He bends down and licks over the pink burn marks right below his ass.

“You wanna come for me again, pretty boy?” he asks tauntingly. His fingers feel around for the last ice cube while he scrapes his teeth over one of the freshest, raw lines. Steve hisses and starts sputtering out his name again. Bucky ignores him; keeps talking: “Bad little Kitten – if I want you to come for me, does that mean you’re allowed to try and fight it? Hmm? I want you to come for me, _c’mon_ , you’re so close. Bet that beautiful cock of yours wouldn’t be fightin’ it if it was down my throat again, would it?" 

“ _James_ , please, I…”

“‘I wanna come again’? ‘I’m _gonna_ come again’? You know that’s what you want, Kitten. You know I always make it so good for you.”

“I – I can’t… _oh God_ …”

“Say it,” Bucky growls, holding the ice cube right above Steve’s skin but denying it contact. Steve seems to struggle with the words; only keeps groaning Bucky’s name and whimpering uselessly. Bucky watches a singular drop of water cling to the corner of the ice cube before dropping onto the red flesh at the top of Steve’s ass. At the same time, he repeats more aggressively, “ _Say it!_ ”

“I wanna come!” Steve cries out, breaking. His hips make these small, half-aborted movements where he seems to be trying to grind himself down on the bed but then constantly having to stop because the stimulation inside of his ass is too much. Now that he’s said it, though, the floodgates have completely crashed around him and he doesn’t seem to know how to _stop_ ; just keeps begging, louder and louder, “ _I wanna come, I wanna come, James, oh fuck, mm, James, I wanna come, make me come, please, I wanna, I…_ ”

He _does_ come; practically _screams_ when Bucky shoves the ice cube against the burn on his cleft – _riiiiight above where he’s so perfectly stretched open_ – and disintegrates into a sobbing mess. Bucky doesn’t keep the ice on him for very long this time because he doesn’t know if this orgasm is more pleasure than pain or vice versa in itself, and the added sensation might just make it intolerable for Steve. So he discards it back into the bowl and then grabs one of Steve’s hands, giving the blond something to clutch onto while he rides it out.

“That’s it… Bet that felt real good, huh?” Bucky says, amongst other things of the same nature, while he kisses along Steve’s wounds. Steve’s cries eventually stop, until he’s simply breathing out moans; eyes not nearly as tightly squeezed shut. The bridge of his nose and the corner of his eye (from what Bucky can see) are smudged with wet mascara. It’s probably stained the sheets. Bucky thinks he looks spectacular.

Personally speaking, Bucky’s favourite part is always the aftercare – _always_. Doesn’t matter what they do. Hurting Steve and watching Steve get off on it gives him a dark, twisted sense of satisfaction and yeah, he gets horny as fuck from the sights and sounds. But _taking care_ of Steve has always been Bucky’s greatest vulnerability. It’s what he was put on this earth to do; he’ll maintain that until the day he dies. So he pops open the cap for the aloe vera and squirts a generous amount into the palm of his flesh hand before tossing it aside and spreading the gel over his bionic hand as well. As is always the case, it’ll be a complete bitch to clean from the thin lines of plating later on, but in the moment, it’s worth it. He exhales hot air a few times on the metal to try and keep it from feeling too chilly, and then plants himself to Steve’s side so he can start rubbing it along the blond’s back. He keeps his gaze to wherever he touches, and makes sure to coat every last burn mark with the aloe vera. All the while, he gets lost in the scant sighs or relieved moans coming from his left. After he mindfully coats Steve’s legs and the top of his rear with the gel, he repeats the entire process one more time. 

“Feel better, Kitten?” he asks softly, cleaning as much as he can from his hands again on the cloth.

Steve readjusts his head against the mattress and hums sleepily. “Mm… Yeah,” he answers. Inhaling long and deep through his nose, he adds, “Would’a been fine without it, though.”

“I know you would’ve. But you know I like doing it.”

“Mm. I know… I like it, too.”

Bucky slips a finger under Steve’s chin and tilts it up. “Kitten? Look at me. Now you _don’t_ think we’re finished here, do you?”

Steve gets a lethargic half-smile and mumbles slowly, “I could do this all day… Why? You gettin' sleepy?"

Chuckling, Bucky gives him a soft kiss, petting Steve’s hair. “Purr for me again?” he asks, nuzzling his nose along the curve of his best friend’s ear. He smiles, pleased, when Steve does it. “Just relax and keep breathing, ‘kay Stevie? M’gonna get the plug out and then I got one more thing in mind before I fuck you.”

“I don’t want it out,” Steve complains, looking up at him with a frown. “I told you, m’fine.”

_Of course he doesn’t. God, how could Bucky ever be so lucky?_

“I know you are, sugar, but I need you sitting up and it’ll be too much pressure on the base. You could really hurt yourself – now c’mon, stop lookin’ so sore with me and just hold still, will you?”

Steve rolls his eyes – just _slightly_ – and makes himself go slack against the bed, focusing on taking deep breaths. It’s definitely unpleasant, getting this thing removed; Bucky remembers from experience. But he supposes it also feels sort of good in its own way, too. The worst part is definitely the first second when his fingers have to get a grip on the wide base again, because it creates the tiniest pinching sensation. Steve grunts, as expected. Then he releases the air in his lungs as Bucky slides it out.

“All done – see? That wasn’t so bad, was it? You took that like a champ,” Bucky congratulates him, grabbing the cloth and hopping off the bed so he can put the plug there until they’re finished. Steve feels like dead-weight as Bucky helps him sit up. His ass is loose and his stomach is covered in drying come, so Bucky rewards him for being so good by holding him still with his left arm while he licks at his abs and cleans him up. Before releasing him, he tells Steve to break free of the bondage tape so he has use of his hands – to which Steve does obediently before the words have even finished leaving Bucky’s mouth. All the brunet can do is chuckle.

Ducking in and out of the closet, he comes out holding his stainless steel SIG-Sauer P226R. Maybe it’s demented – but then again, maybe _he’s_ demented on some level, after all – but even after everything that’d happened regarding his time as the Winter Soldier, Bucky’s weapons are still like his babies. For so many years, they were his only real source of protection; his own sort of shield. Whenever he’d been at Karpov’s hands, or Lukin’s, or Pierce’s… there’d been nothing to keep him safe from the things they’d done to him. But the moment he was activated and thrown into a mission, he _did_ have his guns and his knives and the like – and it was the only time where he ever felt inviolable. He could take down anyone who threatened him in the blink of an eye; the gun in his hand or the blade twirling around in his fingers, extensions of his own body.

So it's a strangely intimate thing for him to share with Steve... and he likes it.

Steve perks up right away when he sees it, too. Bucky thinks he’s always been a real sick, twisted fuck sometimes for the things he gets off on doing – but as always, he’s never been alone in this because Steve makes sure Bucky’s forever got a hand to hold in this world, even in these more messed up desires. Steve... Steve likes it all, too. Bucky makes sure the safety is on and then approaches the bed – a slow stalk rather than his usual stride. He purposely eyes his best guy up and down, like a predator… as if scoping Steve out like he’s his target, and re-adopting those lethal, precise expressions he’d had back when he was still the Asset. Bucky’s been so long without an accident that Steve knows it’s all for show. The blond spreads his legs to make room for Bucky to come stand in-between them.

Bucky’s heart always races whenever he does this; pumps his veins with so much adrenaline that it’s amazing he can keep his body so still and controlled. He transfers the firearm into his left hand, all the while watching Steve,who’s watching the _gun_. He’d thought his boyfriend to be crazy when he’d first suggested gunplay all those months ago, but all it took was _one time… One_ time to see how having the muzzle pressed against Steve’s temple while he fucked into him had Steve coming like Bucky had never seen before… And then  _o_ _ne_ time of feeling that rush of having Steve take the gun and turn the tables; gripping the back of Bucky’s head and holding it beneath the brunet’s jaw while Bucky rode him… And then he completely understood.

Steve’s always been a bit of an adrenaline junkie. So leave it to Steve to make Bucky realize that, _fuck him_ , so is  _he_.

He brings his index and middle fingers of his flesh hand forward and presses them to the pulse point on Steve’s neck. Sure enough, his best friend's heartbeat is quick and light. It feels like it travels all the way into Bucky’s body, right down to his cock. Steve looks up to him with wide eyes and Bucky nods. He feels the blond’s big hands rest on his waist and watches as Steve licks his lips. Bucky lifts the gun, brings it closer to Steve’s face, and then _very_ lightly traces those full, swollen lips with the end of the barrel.

Steve’s breathing is shallow. Baby blues flutter shut, and he moans quietly before parting them as an open invitation. Steve likes it when he knows Bucky’s finger is on the trigger, but Bucky makes sure never to squeeze it in the slightest – even with the safety on. As he starts to guide the muzzle into Steve’s mouth, he feels one hand release from his hip in favour of gripping around his bionic wrist. Steve holds Bucky still and closes his mouth around the barrel of the gun, Bucky’s flesh fingers still shoved against his throat and monitoring his pulse.

Steve opens his eyes and stares up at Bucky – so profane and so libidinous that Bucky groans, “ _Fuck, Kitten_ …” under his breath. He makes sure Bucky’s attention is solely on him and his dirty mouth when he starts bobbing his head back and forth and essentially sucking the gun like the damn thing was Bucky’s dick.

Bucky _needs_ to fuck him soon, _god damnit, fuck, fuck…_ Steve has no idea how hot he looks like this.

But then Steve unexpectedly pulls back and begs in a husky voice, “Pull the trigger,” before sucking on it some more.

Bucky’s heart leaps into his throat and just like that, dread fills his chest. “What?” he asks nervously. He knows the safety is on; the firing pun wouldn’t work even if he _did_ attempt it. But Steve’s moving way too fast for him; he pulls back to repeat, “It’s okay, I trust you – pull the trigger,” _and then slides his hand up to slip his thumb over Bucky’s trigger finger, with every intention of doing it_ for _him._

“H-Hydra!” Bucky all but shouts; fear suddenly and very thickly laden in his voice.

They’ve never actually used their safety word before. Steve’s hand flies away and the blond’s pulling back completely in the blink of an eye. He looks shocked; hadn’t known Bucky would be so opposed to doing that. But more than anything, he looks _guilty_ and _ashamed._ Bucky spins around and nearly jumps to the dresser. He puts the gun down as if he just can’t stand to be holding it for a second longer right now, and then drops his head and stares at the floor, trying to calm his still-erratic heartbeat. He feels ridiculous at his overreaction.

Steve watches him worriedly and then rises to his feet, wincing at the slackened resistance in his opening. He reaches up as if to come over and touch Bucky, but then thinks better of it and wrings his hands apprehensively. “I’m sorry, Buck, I…” He shakes his head, trying to come up with the right explanation. “I should’ve talk to you about that first – I got carried away, I’m sorry. Please… Please look at me.”

Bucky sighs and turns to face him. There’s still fear in his eyes. When he speaks, he sounds strained; like the words grieve him. “M’sorry Steve, I… I could never do that to you again, okay? I tried to kill you before, back then, and I… No. Okay. You… You don’t need to apologize, you couldn’t have known. Just… None of that, alright? No gunplay without the safety on and no pulling triggers. That… That’s playing it too close to the chest. I… Okay… Look, m’sorry I freaked out…”

“Buck, it’s okay,” Steve says quickly, and now he does approach him; takes Bucky’s face in his hands and presses their foreheads together. Nodding, he says, “It’s okay; _I’m_ the one who’s sorry. I promise I won’t spring something like that up on you again without talkin’ it through properly, alright?” He gives Bucky’s lips a little peck. “But, hey… At least we know now, right? We can add it to the list of hard limits.”

“Yeah… At least we know the safety word works,” Bucky jokes weakly.

Steve smiles; Bucky can see how badly he still feels about what just happened. He’d probably do anything at the moment to make it up to Bucky. “Yeah, we do…”

“I know you trust me,” Bucky says, frowning deeply. He still feels like an explanation is in order, even though all he wants to do is hug Steve to him and apologize for killing the mood. “It’s just… Fuck, _I_ just… I don’t think I trust _myself_ enough for that yet, if that makes sense? I don’t know if I ever will again.”

“You’d never hurt me, Bucky.”

“No,” Bucky agrees, but then he chuckles bitterly and taps his temple. “But _he_ still could. We never know if he’ll come back or not. Steve, I… I’d never be able to fuckin’ forgive myself if I… _Jesus Christ_ , I’d put the fuckin’ gun in my own mouth next, I fuckin’--”

“Hey, shh…” Steve shuts him up with a kiss. Then another. And then another. “You’re thinkin’ too much again – stop that. You’re okay and _I’m_ okay and we’re okay… Okay?” Bucky’s brows furrow and he sighs when Steve starts to plant little kisses all around his face, stubbornly trying to make Bucky smile.

“M’not five,” he mutters half-heartedly, but he can’t help that little smile that _does_ tug up one corner of his mouth. Steve always knows exactly how to break him back down and make him feel better. “Stop fussin’ over me like a mother hen.”

“Quit complaining,” Steve shoots back before kissing his face faster, making Bucky laugh. Steve pulls away and gives him another apologetic smile before beginning to step back towards the bed, guiding Bucky along with him. “Look, how about… no more toys for tonight. No more games. Just you n’ me, and you can make me come as many times as you want and I won’t beg you to stop _once_.”

Bucky snorts, but the tightness in his chest is already calming down. That _does_ sound nice… He lets Steve tug him down onto the bed with him; lets Steve settle on his back before positioning himself between his legs and draping his body over his. “But I like it better when you beg,” Bucky admits.

Steve’s eyes glimmer and he arches an eyebrow before replying coyly, “Okay… Then I _will_ beg. Swear to the Lord Almighty, Barnes – one second you give me shit for fightin’ ya, the next that’s all you want from me. I’m starting to think you don’t know _what_ you want.”

Bucky kisses him roughly; licks across his bottom lip and then whispers in his ear, “I want _you_. That’s pretty much all m’certain of these days.” He pauses and then adds with all seriousness, “I love you, you know.”

“I love you back, Buck. M’sorry again.”

Bucky shakes his head. “Don’t be.” Exhaling a chuckle, he shoots Steve a self-effacing look and adds, “Is it bad that I still sort of want to fuck you stupid, even after killin’ the mood?”

“M’still hard,” Steve points out, grinning like a dope. “And so are you, y’know. Doesn’t seem like the mood’s been killed to me.”

“I want you,” Bucky repeats, nodding affirmatively. “Not done with you yet, believe me; just had to make sure.”

 “Then _have_ me, ‘cause--”

“Rogers, if you say ‘ _I’m with ya ‘till the end of the line_ ’ right now, I’m sleeping at Clint's tonight.”

Steve laughs. “No, idiot, I was gonna say, ‘cause I’ve been dyin’ to come again since I started sucking off your SIG.” Bucky eyes him and then responds by nipping the sensitive skin below Steve’s ear with a soft growl. He backs off reluctantly in order grab the lube. “Hey, Buck?” Steve murmurs, almost _shyly_ – and that’s different; he doesn’t usually sound like that when everything’s stripped away and it’s just them again. Bucky gives him a curious look, and his cock can’t help but twitch when he notes the flush spreading across Steve’s cheeks again. “You think maybe you could call me Kitten some more while we…?”

 _Well fuck, if you’re gonna twist my arm about it_ , Bucky thinks sarcastically. Slicking himself up, he crawls back over Steve and brings his face in close with a mischievous grin. “I think I can do that… You gonna purr again for me, Kitten?”

And oh yes, he _does_ – only stopping to cry out blissfully when Bucky finally pushes into him with one smooth slide. All leftover tension and doubt evaporates from Bucky’s body as he’s met with that familiar feeling of finally going _home._ He fucks Steve fast, and then slow… Faster again… Hard and deep, slow and shallow, and every combination in-between… If he suddenly feels like making love to him instead, he does. But it always returns to him fucking Steve stupid, because _let’s face it_ , that’s still what Steve wants most tonight – and he doesn’t hear a single complaint from Bucky.

Bucky does everything he can to make sure it’s perfect for Steve; that he makes his Kitten feel so good – having his way with him until fucking _sunrise_ … Until their room looks like a tornado went through it and the _bed frame_ is broken and they’re covered in so much sweat that Bucky’s hair is thoroughly _soaked._ He makes Steve come _again_ and _again_ , and _he_ comes _again_ and _again_ , but they never slow down and they never stop.

And you’d best fucking believe that Bucky makes damn sure that by the time he’s breaking their record and making Steve come for the sixteenth and final time – before he shouts nonsense into the blond’s neck and fills his ass up with so much of his climax that it’s _leaking_ from Steve’s red and abused hole – good ole’ Captain America is a complete _mess_ … With tears and mascara running down his face and come running down his legs… And he’s almost lost his voice but he _definitely_ is begging…

For _more_. _Jesus Christ, Stevie…_

Bucky smiles against his neck, completely spent. He feels Steve’s arms wrapped around him and hears his gasps; feels Steve’s shudders and hears his heart beating away in his chest – and he knows it’s all for him. It’s not always going to go off without a hitch, if tonight’s any indication, but one thing will never change: it will _still_ always be perfect. Between them, there’s no way it could possibly go any differently.

“Hey Steve?” Bucky murmurs, tilting his chin up and kissing his best friend’s neck.

“Mm?”

“Happy birthday.”

“Mm… Thank you, Buck.”

“Anything you wanna do _now_? Take a bath? Watch a movie? Go out? Just name it and it’s yours, Kitten.”

Steve thinks about it, humming loudly. Bucky can _feel_ him smile. “Can we go again?”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ _kidding_ me…” But he’s already crawling back over top of him, because how do you say no to Steve Rogers?

You _don’t_ , is the answer.

**Author's Note:**

> Stucky-inspired porn gifs:
> 
> 1\. These are basically what it looked like when Steve super-deep throated Bucky's cock because he's a fucking champ lmfao
> 
> 2\. This is just hot in general, jfc
> 
> 3\. THIS IS SUB!STEVE SHUT THE FUCK UP THIS IS SO SUB!STEVE
> 
> 4\. JHlbldbvjlbdvlblsdbvljbflberdrb
> 
> 5\. This gif does horrible things to me
> 
> 6\. This face right here? Sub!Steve. Steve, fuck, you're such a good sub; such a pretty Kitten.
> 
> As always, everything (except that last image haha) came from the best damn blog in the world, [stevebuckypornlookalikes.tumblr](http://stevebuckypornlookalikes.tumblr.com/)


End file.
